Better Than Roses
by Dana Keylits
Summary: A S2 "What If" one shot, that takes place where "A Rose For Ever After" left off. Disclaimer: The characters and settings are not mine, they belong to Andrew W. Miller and company, with whom I am, sadly, unaffiliated.


**Better Than Roses  
**By Dana Keylits

* * *

**A/N: Set during Season Two, a "what if" that picks up where "A Rose For Ever After" leaves off. I've not written a "what if" scenario before, but this one came to me the other night as I was watching this episode. I thought Beckett looked so good at the end of it, that it seemed a shame to waste her outfit and hairdo on just Kyra and Greg's wedding. So, I took her out and had some fun! Oh, and so did Castle! :-)**

**Thanks, again, to Kristy! You're fucking awesome! **

* * *

**K**ate looked quickly down at the file in her hand, hoping it looked to all the world that she was deeply engrossed in what she was reading, until, with a hot panic rising from her belly, she realized that the file was upside down.

Shit.

As Kyra Blaine stepped out of the conference room, Kate offered a silent prayer that she'd just keep on walking. No such luck. The brunette paused at Kate's desk, leaned in, and said, "He's all yours."

Kate watched her glide away, and then slowly aimed her gaze towards a particularly pensive looking Castle. His expression seemed faraway as he sat at the conference room table, absently twirling his phone in his hand. Kate was annoyed by how much she was dying to know what he was thinking.

And, what about what Kyra had said? _He's all yours_. What did that even mean, anyway? Well, _of_ _course_ Kate knew what it _meant_, but, she didn't think of Castle like that. Did she?

_Yes you do, Kate. You have for a while now._

As she watched him stare off into space, his mind on some distant memory, she had to agree with the annoying voice in her head, that yes, she _did_ have thoughts of him like that. Even now, just by admitting it, she felt a twinge in her belly, a slight flush of her cheeks, and she shook her head, chastising herself for the indulgence. She hated that she was having these thoughts, these _feelings_ about him. He represented so much of what she disliked. His reckless juvenile behavior, his crazy theories, his child-like insistence that everything be about having _fun_, the way he followed her around, taking notes and making snide comments about Nikki Heat and Jameson Rook and what _they_ were currently doing, which _of course_ usually involved being horizontal.

And, naked.

_You actually __**love**__ all of that about him._

Ugh. Okay. So, she liked it when he pulled her pigtails. But, she didn't _like_ that she liked it.

_Okay. But I'm laughing at you._

'Whatever. Leave me alone,' She mumbled, as she swiped with her hand at the imaginary thought-bubble floating above her head. She glanced back at him, and felt that unbidden twinge again. She needed to tamp that down before it got her into trouble.

She closed the upside-down file folder and shoved it roughly into her desk drawer, grabbing her satchel and keys as she kicked the drawer shut with her foot. She turned off the computer monitor and stood up.

Castle was approaching from the conference room.

"You headin' out?" He asked, his bright eyes crinkling at the corners.

Her heart thumped against her ribcage. "Yeah. Nothing but a little paperwork left to do on this case." She glanced down nervously at the stack of papers on her desk blotter, then back up at him. "I thought I'd just finish it up tomorrow."

He nodded. "Okay, then. Guess I'll go home, too."

Kate bit her bottom lip, giving him a curt nod, "Catch ya tomorrow, Castle." She was halfway to the elevator before he replied.

"Okay. Yep. Tomorrow."

The doors slid shut and she exhaled. 'God, what _was_ that?"

_You like him! _

She made a face and blew a puff of air at the errant strand of hair hanging in her eyes. 'I do not,' she replied meekly to herself. 'At least not much.'

_Liar._

'Shut up.'

* * *

**H**e came bounding up to her like a puppy wanting to play and she almost spilled the coffee she'd been pouring into her chipped NYPD mug.

"Guess what?"

She feigned annoyance. "What?"

"Kyra and Greg are getting married at the courthouse this afternoon and they've invited us."

She pulled the stir stick out of her mug, slipping it into her mouth, and licked the remnants of coffee from it. She noticed Castle's eyes drifting towards her lips as they curled around the stick, and she immediately felt the now familiar, albeit annoying, twinge of attraction course through her. She pulled the stir-stick out of her mouth and held it between her thumb and forefinger, pointing it at him. Her eyes narrowed.

"Really. Us? Why us? Greg hates you, and Keyra doesn't even know me."

He shrugged. "Who knows. I think they're just grateful we solved the case! C'mon. Let's go. Waddya say?"

"I don't know Castle."

"Beckett, c'mon. Kyra liked you, and they want us there! It'll be _fun_."

She rolled her eyes, already regretting what she was about to say. "Fine. What time?"

_Ooooh, you're going on a date with Castle!_

"Four-thirty."

Kate glanced at her watch, shaking her head. "Okay, if no body drops today, I'll clear it with Montgomery to leave early."

"Great!" He touched her elbow, his eyebrows raised.

She shivered at the contact, holding her breath, looking down at his hand as it rested on her elbow.

He didn't seem to notice the affect he was having on her. "You're just doing paperwork today, right?"

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and tossed the stir-stick into the trashcan.

_Two points!_

She gave him a suspicious look. "Yeah, why?"

"You don't need me for that, right? I'll just be in the way," he began backing out of the room.

"Since when have you ever cared about being in the way, Castle?"

He palmed the front of his chest, "Whaaat?"

"Fine. Go. Where are you in such a hurry to get to, anyway?"

He held up his hands, palms in. "Manicure."

She snorted, practically shooting coffee from her nose. "God, you are _so_ metro-sexual!"

He paused, giving her a lopsided grin. "Makes you want me, right? My hands can do wonderful things, Beckett." He waggled his eyebrows and inched towards her, but thought better of it when she lobbed a creamer packet at him. He spun around, dodging the packet as it went skittering across the floor, and headed into the hallway, throwing an, "I'll pick you up at quarter-to-four," over his shoulder on the way out.

She braced herself against the counter, catching her breath. What had gotten into her lately? Why was he making her feel all, _girly_?

_It isn't all of a sudden, Kate. You're just finally letting yourself enjoy it, that's all._

'Ugh.' She moaned, pushing herself away from the counter. She picked up her mug and settled down at her desk, her eyes immediately flickering to the clock on the wall.

She did that all day, alternating between watching the clock and her phone, praying it would ring and a body would drop and then she could cancel. And, then feeling horribly that she was actually praying for murder to avoid going to this wedding...

_...date_

...with Castle. The butterflies in her stomach grew more and more active as the day progressed, and by 2:30 she had no choice but to march into Montgomery's office and ask for the afternoon off. Being that he was one of Castle's biggest cheerleaders, and somehow having already heard that they were attending Kyra and Greg's wedding, he of course waved her out of his office with a "Have fun!"

She called Castle and told him she'd meet him at the courthouse, she wanted to change out of her jeans and t-shirt, and thought he sounded disappointed. She shook her head, 'imagining things,' she mumbled.

_He wanted to pick you up like a gentleman on a proper date._

"Oh, would you just shut up!?" She begged, then looked around, realizing she was talking to herself and probably sounded just a little bit crazy.

She raced home and changed. Opting for a more casual look with a grey pair of pants, black open toed heels, and a wispy lavender blouse. She paired it with a funky silver necklace that looked like it was actually five necklaces, of varying lengths, attached at the back. She decided to take a curling brush to her hair, using a spray bottle and the hair dryer to soften the look from her customary straightened style. Then she added some extra makeup. She stepped back and looked at her reflection in the mirror.

She was smiling.

"God!" she groaned. Shaking her head and laughing at herself. This wasn't a date. They were just being polite and going to the wedding of Castle's ex-girlfriend, someone for whom he still pines, _clearly_. She had the photographic evidence to prove it! Why was she making such a fuss?

She stuck her tongue out at her own reflection, crossed her eyes, and then laughed. Glancing at her wristwatch she realized she was running late, so she snatched her purse, keys, and coat from the hallway closet, and flew out her front door, hoping she'd have good fortune in getting a cab at this hour of the day.

* * *

**C**astle paced back and forth in front of the doors of the Manhattan courthouse. Beckett was late, and he hated to miss the ceremony. He was about to reach for his cell phone, when he caught her familiar shape come running up the staircase. He held the door open for her and she breezed in, looking soft and lovely, and smelling divine.

"Wow, Beckett. You changed," he observed, eyeing her up and down with approval.

She shot him a classic Beckett look and replied, "Well, I wasn't going to show up in my blue jeans."

He helped her out of her Burberry overcoat, "Well, you look very nice. I like what you've done with your hair."

She self-consciously touched the back of her head, running her fingers lightly through her hair, and looked at him from the corner of her eye. "Thanks,"

"You're welcome," he replied, holding out his arm for her. "Shall we?"

She twirled one strand of hair with her finger and thumb before tentatively sliding her arm through his, as though unsure if that's what she wanted to do. She squeezed his bicep and smiled up at him brightly. "Let's go."

He returned the smile, his baby blue's shining at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling with a boyish charm, and he noticed something. He couldn't put his finger on it, but it was something, something different about _her_.

About how she was with _him. _

And, he liked it.

* * *

**T**he ceremony was short, only a few witnesses, which made Kate even more self-conscious about being there, but it was lovely, and sweet, romantic even, and fitting given the circumstances.

And, she caught the bouquet. Which initially made her laugh, it made Castle laugh, too, but, then it made her even more aware of the burgeoning feelings she was having for him and, as soon as she could, she passed it off to Kyra's Maid of Honor. After a few minutes of chatting with the other assembled guests, she and Castle gave their well wishes to the happy couple and then made their exit. Kyra and Greg had decided to head directly to their honeymoon. No party, no reception, just the two of them. Which sounded immensely appealing to Kate.

As they strolled back down the well-lit marble-floored hallway, Castle grabbed at his earlobe and closed one eye, cocking his head towards Kate. "So, Beckett. We're all dressed up, and we have nowhere to go. Waddya say we get some dinner. My treat?"

Kate took a half step and then turned towards him, biting the inside of her cheek. She couldn't decide.

_Oh, for God's sake. Say yes!_

"Okay."

"Really?" He wasn't expecting a yes.

"Really." She hadn't expected to _say_ yes.

He smiled, his eyes shining, a devlish grin playing across his lips. "Okay, prepare to have your taste buds explode, Beckett. I'm taking you to one of my favorite places. You're gonna love it."

* * *

**C**astle used his charm, and fame, to get them a table at the expensive French restaurant, even though they were booked solid with reservations for the evening, and as they were escorted to a quiet corner table, Castle rested his hand at the small of her back. Kate didn't turn around, or flinch, or react in any way, but inside she was on fire, even feeling a stirring between her legs that was exciting and new, but completely unexpected and a little bit frightening, at least where Castle was concerned. She didn't want to be having these feelings about him.

And, yet, she _was_ having them.

They were seated at a four top, the extra place settings swiftly carried away by the maître d, who looked at the pair as though they were young lovers. They sat kitty corner, rather than across, from each other and Kate was keenly aware of how close she was to Castle. It both excited and scared her.

_Just go with it, Kate._

Castle ordered an expensive bottle of French wine and they tapped glasses, an audible ping echoing between them.

"To love," Castle offered.

"What?" Kate asked, her cheeks flushed, her expression confused.

"Greg and Kyra," he explained, taking a sip of the expensive wine.

"Oh," Kate replied, sipping at her own glass, the amber liquid gliding smoothly down her throat like a medicine woman's secret recipe. She set the crystal flute down and placed both hands in her lap, licking her lips. "So, you're okay with your ex marrying another man, Castle?"

"Sure. Why wouldn't I be?" He replied, taking another sip of his wine before setting the glass down and turning slightly towards her.

"I don't know," Kate started, fingering the edge of her napkin as it lay in her lap. "It seems like you still have feelings for her."

"For Kyra?"

"Mmm hmm," Kate answered, one eyebrow raised.

"Look. What happened on that rooftop," Castle started, "…it was more about nostalgia than anything else."

"Really," Kate asked, picking up her glass and taking another generous sip. The alcohol was helping to relax her, loosen her inhibitions, even if only slightly.

"Really," Castle said, declaratively. Kyra was his past. He didn't know what his future was, but as he watched Kate drink her wine, as he watched the way she was looking at him tonight, the way she smiled at him, leaned towards him, he was beginning to hope. Beginning to hope that maybe his future included _her_.

He gave her a fifty-watt smile, "Kyra is an extraordinary person. And, I'm richer for having known her." He picked up his glass and sipped before finishing, "…but she's part of my past. And, right now, I'm really only interested in my future." He raised the glass towards her before setting it down, as if to emphasize his point.

Kate froze. That smile, his eyes, the implication that Kate was his future. The blood suddenly rushed through her veins at an unnatural rate and she felt lightheaded, unsure, unstable. She took a steadying breath, looked down at the table and then back up at him. What was going on here?

_You want him_.

"Do you know what you want?"

"Huh?" she asked, startled.

He pointed at the menu that lay across the plate in front of her. "To eat? Do you know what you want to eat?"

She collected herself and then scanned the menu. Everything looked delicious, but her stomach was so tied up in knots that she had zero appetite. She finally decided on the roasted chicken, ignoring Castle's suggestion of Oysters.

"They're supposed to be an aphrodisiac, you know." He joked, giving her a one eyed wink.

She rolled her eyes, and tipped her glass back, draining the contents. Castle was quick with the bottle and refilled her glass. She eyed him playfully. "You trying to get me drunk, Castle?"

He smiled, chuckling. "So I can take advantage of you?"

She nodded, her eyes roaming to look at his lips, before she looked down at her hands. "Who says it would be taking advantage?"

_Whoa! Good girl!_

God, she was flirting with him. She was actually flirting! She'd never imagined this.

_Yes you have!_

But now that she was doing it, she was _liking _it.

She dared a glance at Castle and was delighted to see that he was staring at her, open mouthed, his face a mask of disbelief. She smiled at him, her hazel eyes dancing in the candlelight. "What's the matter, Castle?"

"I, ah, no, nothing. Nothing's wrong." He leaned in towards her, recovering his composure. "Beckett, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were flirting with me."

She smiled, her eyes slowly rising to meet his. "What if I am?"

He shifted in his seat, his knee brushing against her outer thigh, and sparks flew up her leg, igniting a fire in her belly.

"Um, well, I would say that I'm liking this side of you, Detective."

"I am too," she confessed, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks.

He inched closer, his fingertips skipping over the back of her hand. She looked down, her breath caught in her throat.

"So, does this mean…?"

She gazed back up at him. "It means we're enjoying ourselves. Let's not analyze it, 'kay?" She asked. She didn't want to break the spell. She didn't want to think, to get ahead of themselves, she just wanted to enjoy _this._

_Enjoy __**him**__ you mean!_

Enjoy him. And, the way he made her feel.

He was only inches away from her, his fingers still playing with the back of her hand. She shifted in her seat, slightly parting her lips in anticipation. Her breath came out in short pants, her eyes alternating between his lips and his baby blues. Her tongue curled inside her mouth as she imagined what he would taste like, and she whimpered inaudibly.

As he gradually moved closer, she tipped her chin towards him, tilting her head to one side. The air felt still, cocooned, the sights and bustling sounds around them oddly muted. He hesitated, as if waiting for her to give him permission, waiting to see if this was real, to see if she would pull away. And, when she said nothing, did nothing, he gently, slowly, pressed his lips against hers.

And her mind exploded, she literally saw shooting stars behind her fluttering eyelids. She slipped one hand behind his neck, pulling him towards her as the kiss deepened. Her belly contracted with pleasure when his tongue lightly laved across her lower lip, and she opened her mouth, coaxing his tongue with hers.

She felt the heat rise from her chest, creep up her neck, coloring her cheeks, burning her ears. She moved her body closer to his, sitting on the edge of her chair. His hand had moved from the arm of his chair to her cheek, and he tripped his fingers over her skin, running his fingertips over her throat as their tongues engaged in a languid ballet.

She thought she might pass out, might stop breathing, might collapse right there into a puddle of aching flesh and blood and _want_. Her thoughts raced through her brain as though on a high-speed railway; one that just went around and around in never ending circles.

Stop!

_No, don't stop._

Stop, before this goes too far.

_You want him. Let it go as far as it can._

This feels dangerous.

_Good! Then you're doing it right. _

Castle used both hands to frame her face and then gently pulled away. She leaned towards him, a soft whimper spilling from her lips. Their foreheads touched. When she caught her breath, which took a minute, she whispered, "Don't stop."

He kissed her again. This time his mouth was harder, faster, his tongue probing and curious. He moaned into her mouth and her belly contracted again. Then she abruptly pulled away, her fingertips massaging his lower lip to wipe the remnants of her lipstick from them. She stared at his mouth, his beautiful, delicious mouth and she wanted nothing more than to kiss him over and over. But as she regained her composure, she suddenly realized where they were, so she leaned back against her chair and sighed.

"Um, wow."

She laughed. "Yeah."

"I mean, wow, Beckett. Wow."

"I know."

"That was…"

"Yeah."

"I want to do it again."

She slowly raised her eyes, regarding him from beneath her long fan of lashes, her pupils huge, crowding out the hazel-green of her iris. "Me too."

* * *

**T**he room was dimly lit and smelled like lavender and vanilla. A bottle of champagne was chilling in an ice bucket on the bedside table in front of the long window, casting shadows across the room. The thick-paned glass muzzled the roar of Manhattan's late evening traffic below, creating an oddly sensual vibration in the room.

Kate stepped further into the room, Castle right behind her. She was keenly aware of his warm body as he inched closer to her, his palm flat against the small of her back, his breath hot on her neck. She closed her eyes and leaned against the wall, her brain screaming at her to stop, turn around, go home, be sensible.

_Don't be sensible. _

But, she wanted him. It was undeniable. She wanted to be with Castle, she'd wanted to be with him for awhile now, but she'd never been willing to admit it, to give in to her more _carnal_ desires.

_Give in, Kate. _

Until now.

He circled deliberately around her, facing her, and picked up one of her hands with his, entwining their fingers. He slipped his other hand around her waist and stepped closer. She stood still, not moving an inch, barely breathing, aware of only him and his scent, musk and coconut – must have been from the manicure, and she felt wobbly breathing it in. He tucked one finger beneath her chin, tilting her face upwards and then gently kissed the corner of her mouth. He peppered her with small kisses, his lips barely brushing her skin, along her jawline, to her earlobe, the column of her throat. He gently moved the fabric of her blouse aside and kissed her shoulder, her collarbone. She slowly rolled her head back, her lips parted, her eyes closed, and she moaned, long and slow and _dripping_ with desire. She felt the cadence of her heart speed up, just as he pulled away and she found herself chasing him.

He chuckled and growled at the same time, lifting her hand to his mouth and kissing her lazily on the inside of her wrist.

Then he led her to the bed.

Oh, God, the bed.

_Ooooh, yes! The bed._

He sat down on the edge of the king sized Simmons, still holding her hand, and she stood in front of him. Uncertain, afraid, but excited and happy, too. She felt herself trembling.

_Let go, Kate. Let go and enjoy him._

He reached for her hip and gently pulled her towards him until she was standing between the vee of his legs. He gazed up into the depths of her chameleon eyes, his own eyes swimming with flecks of green and gold, but the blue, God, the blue was _so_ blue.

"Beckett, are you sure…?"

No

_Yes_

"I think so," she replied.

"You think so? We don't have to, we can just," he looked around the expensive hotel suite until his eyes landed on the flat screen TV, "…watch TV."

She laughed. Her hand reached, of its own accord, to brush away an errant strand of hair from his forehead and then her fingers got lost in his thick mane of hair, combing a path through it.

_You're sure, Kate. For once in your life just __**do**__ what you __**want**__ instead of being afraid of it._

She searched his eyes, seeing only his desire for her reflected within them, and made up her mind. "I'm sure, Castle. I want this. I want _you._"

He exhaled with relief, not even realizing he'd been holding his breath, and slid his hands up the back of her thighs, over the delicious curve of her ass, to the small of her back. He pulled her to him so that his face was pressed against her middle. He inhaled, savoring the scent of her. She brought her other hand up to the back of his head, using both hands to massage and rake through his now boyishly tousled hair.

Slowly, deliberately, with painstaking effort, he un-tucked her blouse and then expertly slipped his hands beneath the fabric, touching her bare skin. A thousand shivers raced down her spine and she moaned, pressing against him even harder, her skin exploding in a wave of goose bumps. He eased her shirt up until her bare stomach was exposed, and then he kissed her, just below the lace of her strapless bra, his tongue skimming her tepid skin, his lips infusing her with warm kisses.

As though guided by an unseen force, she reached down and gathered her shirt in both fists, pulling it up and over her head, her hair falling haphazardly around her face once the fabric had cleared her head. She tossed it aside, and then framed his face with both hands. She straddled his lap, her knees on the bed on either side of him.

Oh, god, he was already aroused!

_He wants you._

They kissed. Long and hard, deliberately, their tongues dancing from inside his mouth to inside hers and back again. He tasted like wine and chocolate, and she relished his flavor, sipping at him like he was a sampling dish.

His hands mapped her upper body, the slope of her hips, her waist, her back, before coming around to massage her breasts, his mouth had moved there, licking and kissing her cleavage. She arced towards him, her hands wrapped around his neck, an _oh_, _God_ tumbling from her lips.

He made quick work of her bra, his lips immediately finding her nipples, sucking and licking, his tongue swirling around them in concentric lazy circles. She felt feverish and her breathing grew quick, escaping her mouth in short loud bursts.

When he reached for the button of her pants, she stopped, frozen, the pleasure radiating from between her legs almost unbearable, overwhelming, as though she couldn't bear to be inside of her own body for another minute.

Stop.

_Don't stop._

Stop. It's too much.

_It's just enough. Don't stop._

"Kate,"

She looked down at him, his eyes hooded and lusty, "Hmm?"

"Are you okay? Is this," He ran his fingers down her spine, leaving a trail of infused vibrating flesh in their wake. "…okay?"

No. I'm scared.

_Don't be afraid. You want him._

"Yeah, no, it's fine. It's just," she tripped her fingernails over the stubble on his chin, aroused by the gentle scruffy sound that rose between them. "…happening so fast."

"Mmmm," he replied, continuing his assault on her spine. "We can slow down, if you like, or stop, if it's too much."

_No!_

"No," Kate replied, her voice throaty. "I'm fine, I want this."

He nodded, regarding her with his bright blue eyes and their floating specs of green and gold, and she felt her body humming with unbridled need. She unbuttoned her pants, unzipped them, too, then grabbed his hand and guided it between her legs, beneath her underwear. She was wet, and ready, and the touch of his fingers on her clit sent her soaring, spiraling upwards and out of the hotel room, up and up, making her dizzy.

"God, Beckett. God, you're so _wet_," he observed, sliding his finger over her hardened nub, exploring her aroused sex, his finger stopping at her entrance, and then sliding in easily.

She threw her head back, all of the air escaping her lungs in one long, slow, tortured sigh, and she moved her hips back and forth, one arm wrapped around his neck, the other touching her breast, her fingertip circling one erect gumdrop nipple. His mouth found her other breast and he sucked, then nibbled, then circled the nipple with his tongue, elongating it.

"God, Castle, God, that feels so good!" She whispered, her eyes closed, her body completely tuned in to him. She could feel the storm building between her legs and she bucked against him, his hand moving quickly against her clit, his finger sliding in and out of her. He could feel a change in her tempo, knew that she must be close.

"Beckett," He ordered, "I want to see you come."

Her thoughts were racing, her body moving faster than she could process. Castle, she was with Castle, she'd only imagined it, and even then she'd tempered her imagination, not wanting to wish for something she couldn't, wouldn't, have.

She moved faster and faster against him, his mouth remained firmly attached to her nipple, his hand expertly coaxing her towards orgasm, she felt lost, afraid, but exhilarated and dangerous at the same time.

And then it happened.

She cried out, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over her body. She arched back, grinding against his hand, her breasts heaving, her mind racing, until she finally settled down, her breathing returning to normal and she opened her eyes.

He was staring at her.

_Oh, my God._

Oh, my God. He was staring at her, staring _through_ her, his face expressionless, his hands still, his body rigid. She grew concerned, her eyebrows furrowed and she was about to ask him what was wrong when, in one fluid motion, he picked her up, turned around, and placed her roughly on the bed. Then he slid her pants off, underwear and all, and wiggled out of his own clothes. He left his boxers on, though. And, Kate couldn't help but notice the bulge there.

She felt so exposed, so vulnerable, but it was okay. For whatever reason, tonight it was okay.

Castle crawled towards her on the bed, hovering over her before landing his mouth on hers in a rough, desperate kiss. He inched his leg between hers, his hip pressed into her groin. "God, Beckett, you're so hot. Do you know? Do you know how hot you are?" He croaked against her mouth.

She smiled and then wrapped her legs around his middle, arcing her pelvis against him, immensely pleased with herself when he groaned with pleasure. "You're pretty hot yourself, you know."

"Beckett, I, ah, I, um," he hesitated, a worry line forming between his eyes.

She cocked her head, "What? Castle, I'm fine. I want to do this. I'm okay, I'm all in."

"God, me too, no, it's just, I forgot, I don't have, um, I don't have any protection."

Kate laughed, relieved. "I'm on the pill. And I passed my last HIV test with flying colors. No one in my life since then."

"Oh, good. Me, too. I mean, I'm not on the pill, but I passed my last test," he nervously explained.

She passed her thumb across his bottom lip, smiling at him. "Good," she kissed him, her tongue exploring the warm cavern of his mouth as her fingers danced over his chin stubble, her legs pressing him against her. "I think one of us is overdressed," she mumbled. And, before he could respond, she'd hooked both feet beneath the hem of his boxers and tugged them down. He raised his hips so she could slide them all the way off, and blushed when she gasped.

"Wow, Castle. Nice!" she teased.

He laughed. "Glad you approve."

"Mmmm, I do. Very much." She reached between them and took him into her hand. He was already erect. She circled the tip with her finger, eliciting a mewling sound from deep within his throat, and then she curled her fingers around him.

He moaned, then exhaled, then moaned again. Her mouth roamed to his ear, her tongue skimming along his earlobe, and she whispered, "I want you, Castle. _Now_."

He raised himself up and allowed her to guide him slowly into her. He filled her completely and they moaned in unison. It was as if neither of them had ever expected to be here, doing this, doing each _other_.

He set a languishing pace, slowly gliding in and out of her, his lips on her throat, licking, nibbling, kissing her, while her hands explored his back and shoulders, tracing a circular path along his skin, leaving red marks where her nails dug into him.

Before long she could feel the familiar stirring in her belly, and she rocked harder against him. He grabbed her left leg and threw it over his shoulder, then did the same with her right. He increased his rhythm, perfectly paced as though keeping time with an invisible metronome.

Suddenly, in a flurry, as though a tsunami had washed over her, the orgasm seized her and she shuddered, crying out, her hips bucking wildly against him, her inner muscles gripping him. She lowered her legs, wrapping them around him. She no longer needed speech, or sound, or air, or water, or anything but him, him inside of her.

And, she'd never, not in her wildest imaginings, thought she would be here with him, doing _this_.

When the orgasm subsided, cresting and receding, and her body had stilled, Castle slowly resumed his gyrations, his steely blue eyes gazing with purpose into her hazel. How many times had she stared into those eyes, and wondered what was behind them, wondered what it would be like to wake up with them staring at her. She felt unbidden tears begin to spring up and she tamped it down.

_Scaredy cat._

No reason to go there. No reason to get emotional. This was what it was, sex, sex with Castle.

With the promise of nothing more.

He nipped at her bottom lip, then captured her mouth with his, their tongues curiously exploring in a well-timed, elaborate waltz.

His cadence changed, a sheen of sweat covered his body. She watched him above her, then reached to the place where they were joined, wanting to feel with her fingers as he glided in and out of her.

She felt it approaching, could tell by the urgency of his hips that he was going to come, and within seconds he was calling her name, his strangled voice echoing from the walls around them, lingering in the air, before being replaced by a new chorus of cries as he emptied himself into her.

She held on to him with her legs, riding it out, her fingers raking through his hair as his strangled breath came hot and fast on her neck.

And, the tears came, in spite of her will to keep them at bay. She buried her face in his neck, not wanting him to see her, not wanting to have to explain something that even _she_ didn't understand.

But he already knew, could already sense, was already so tuned in to her that she couldn't hide it from him.

"Beckett," he whispered, leaning back, wanting to look at her. She turned her face to the side, biting her thumbnail with the hope that he wouldn't see her quivering lips.

"Kate," he said. "What is it?"

She was keenly aware that he was still inside of her, the weight of his body oddly comforting. She shook her head, finally turning to look at him, her eyes glassy and apologetic.

He raised himself up on his elbows, looking at her with a growing concern. "God, Kate, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed, I should have known you didn't want…"

She stopped him with a finger pressed against his lips, then replaced it with her lips, gently kissing him, her tongue skimming over his upper lip before she spoke. "No, it's not that. I wanted to."

"Then…?"

She shrugged. "I don't really know. I'm not. I don't. Castle, I don't easily let my guard down like this." She smiled. "I'm usually not this spontaneous, and I'm worried what it will mean - for us."

"For us?"

"Where do we go from here? Now that we've slept together."

He surprised her by kissing her, then he slowly pulled out of her, and gently lay next to her on the bed, hooking one leg over hers. "I don't know, Beckett, but I'd like to find out."

She swiveled her head to face him. "You would?"

He nodded. "I'd be crazy not to. I've been wanting to be with you since five minutes after I met you."

She made a face, "You only wanted to sleep with me."

He laughed, running his fingers along the dip in her stomach, up the ladder of her ribcage, his flattened palm barely brushing over her breasts. "Well, yeah. Of course I did. But, I think of you as more than that now. I think you're extraordinary, Beckett. I want to see where this goes." He smiled, pressing his lips against her shoulder as she shifted towards him. "I'm in," he promised.

She bit her thumbnail and looked at him coyly. Her tears having stemmed, she suddenly felt light, very light, and she smiled, she laughed, actually. And he could see it, there in the corners of her eyes. She was in, too.

_You're in too._

"I'm in, too," she confirmed, and then rolled on top of him, her lips curved in a kittenish grin. "Ready for round two?"

**The End.**


End file.
